


Accidental Date

by ssironstrange



Series: Resurrected Hearts, Mended Souls [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), IronStrange - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A little angst, Anxiety Attacks, Boyfriends, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dating, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Gay, Innuendo, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 10:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14809898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssironstrange/pseuds/ssironstrange
Summary: Tony Stark kind of sort of asks the Sorcerer Supreme out on a date by total accident, because he doesn't know how to keep his big mouth shut, apparently.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> supremehusbands @ tumblr started this awesomeness. I felt compelled to continue it! (Apprx. 1 1/2 years after IW)

Ever since he met Stephen, every goddamn love song he has ever head finally make sense. Jesus. He shouldn’t be feeling like a high school teenager dealing with his crush for the first time. He’s too fucking giddy for a 48 year old man. Every time Stephen walks into the room his attention just zeroes in on him.  
Now Stephen is at his lab, irritating the shit out of him. Because Tony’d rather call it irritation than admit he’s basically a besotted fool for Stephen. _Go away, Strange. You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your cape collar up so you look cool. Fuck I want to date you._

“So why don’t you ask me out? And it’s a cloak not a cape, Tony.”  
“Shit. I said it out loud didn’t I?”  
“Yeap. So how about that date?”  
“It just slipped out, Strange! This is a bad idea!” Tony shrieked. This is freaking him out.  
“Seems like a perfect idea to me though, Tony.” Stephen sauntered towards him.  
“Are you even serious?” He’s hyperventilating. He’s got to be. Fucking hell.  
“I don’t joke about this, _Anthony_.” Holy fuck. How deep can his voice get?  
Stephen’s presence is slowly invading his personal space, long ridiculous arms caging him on the lab table. Christ.  
“Fuck, Stephen.” His grip on Stephen’s arms are tight, hands trembling against the intensity.  
“ _I don’t fuck on the first date._ So what’s it gonna be, Tony?” Oh god.  
“ ** _Yes._** ”  
"That's what I thought." Stephen's smirk is subtle, yet radiating arrogance. "Meet me at the Sanctum at eight." He leaned his head in beside Stark's, lips mere inches from his ear. "Wear something expensive for me." Voice dropped to near a whisper with the most suggestive tone. Then, just like that, he backed away and turned with a flourish of the cloak to exit through a portal he waved open.  
"Holy _fuck_ ," Tony breathed out, only now realizing he'd been holding his breath.

His face was flushed bright enough to light up the damn room had the lights been out and his stomach was doing flips or something for the almost ticklish flutter he felt inside it. Damn that wizard! Had his whole reason for visiting his lab been a clever rouse? Eyes darted to the artifact he had brought asking for repairs and wondered if it was really an artifact at all or just some scrap metal to use as an excuse. It was just a rod - kinked on one end but otherwise insignificant. With a flustered huff, Tony grabbed it and headed over to the work station to start working it straight again.  
Nothing like a little smithy work hammering out molten metal to burn off frustration.

 

That repair probably should have waited until _after_ the date. Now his arms were sore - on top of feeling utterly ridiculous. This was a mistake. Stephen Strange was grace and poise incarnated! And Tony was, well...  
"A hot mess, that's what you are." He said to his reflection as he looked himself over for the fifteenth time. "Hm. A good looking hot mess, at least."  
Stephen wanted expensive? Stephen would get expensive.  
The Brioni suit was such a dark shade of blue that it would only hint of the color if caught in the right lighting, sateen pinstripes subtle. Quite literally hand tailored for him, it fit as comfortable as a second skin and accented all of the best features he had to offer. It alone cost six months of salary for the average middle-class citizen. Beneath that, a black Prada dress shirt made of cotton so fine it rivaled silk. Adorning his neck was a silk Steffano Ricci black tie with - wait for it - dozens of tiny Swarovski crystals stitched into thin diagonal stripes. Upon his wrist, a Patek Philippe Nautilus watch in a brushed stainless steel - the accessory itself costing more than everything else combined. And finally at his feet, a pair of black leather dress shoes that he'd paid a cobbler in Italy handsomely for.  
This shit was reserved for receiving high honors or visits to the White House. Definitely not intended for a simple date night.  
And yet... what Stephen wanted, Stephen would get.  
Hair was done in it's usual quiffed style, and the look finished with a pair of not-quite-sunglasses of his own design, lenses tinted dark fuchsia.  
He was Tony Motherfucking Stark, wealthiest man on the planet and quite possibly the best dressed one at that.  
So why, then, was his heart racing? Why were his palms sweating like this was some high school prom date? Why couldn't he stop fidgeting with everything within reach in the limo ride there?  
It was stupid. _This_ was stupid.  
The temptation lingered to have his driver turn around and simply stand the wizard up. Fuck that guy. Who did he think he was, demanding a date like that? Who was he to flirt with the idea of anything more?  
Stephen Strange, that's who. Sorcerer Supreme. Master of the Mystic Arts.  
Wizard.  
The one person he couldn't get out of his head no matter how he tried to distract himself. The only person that he _did_ want in his head when he had a night alone. The amount of times he had moaned the sorcerer's name into his pillow was frankly embarrassing.

Tony glanced down at his watch as the car rolled to a smooth stop. 7:58. His door was opened for him and he stepped out and took a moment to smooth out his suit and button the jacket before trotting up the steps. 8:00 on the dot, his hand curled to knock on the door, except it flew open at that exact moment and had him stumbling forward into the Sanctum. Smooth.  
And there Stephen stood atop the stairs, that huge, oddly shapen window behind him with the faint twinkle and glow of the city lights. Christ, it was downright magical. Slack-jawed and awestruck by the sheer beauty of his man, all he could do was stare. Though he kept to his usual ensemble of belted robes, they seemed more formal. The color was crisper - deep blue that matched Tony rather well - and it was trimmed in silk with intricate stitching. Even the belts seemed nicer. Newly made or rarely worn, the leather didn't show any signs of wear and tear, while the fabric ones hadn't any frayed ends yet.  
Why did he wear so many belts, anyway? It seemed... inconvenient. For reasons.  
"Luxurious and punctual. You're off to a good start, Stark." His voice seemed to carry in here, this place that smelled like old books in a musty basement. The cloak around his shoulders flared and carried him through the air and down to stand before the billionaire.  
"Show off." Tony tugged the bottom of the suit jacket, straightening out wrinkles that didn't exist. Fidgeting again.  
"You like it."  
Yes, yes he did. Very much. It irked him Stephen could read him so plainly. Tony worked for decades on the mask he donned to the public, one of false smiles and empty laughter, beaming confidence and ever present sarcasm. Only his AI knew exactly what hid behind that mask. For Stephen to break through even one layer of defense was... unsettling.  
Quietly, Tony cleared his throat. "The limo is waiting."  
"Yeeaah, we're not taking it."  
"Care to explain?"  
"I don't... do vehicles."  
The way he wrung his hangs was subtle, but Tony caught the movement. _Shit, how could I forget that?_ Stark scolded himself mentally, feeling a pang of guilt within his chest. Now all he wanted to do was shower those hands in kisses and beg forgiveness for such a blunder.  
"Ah, right." He offered instead.  
From within a hidden breast pocket inside the jacket, Tony plucked out his heavily modified in true Stark fashion phone and sent a quick text to tell the driver not to wait. He hesitated a few seconds before pushing send - it was sort of his last chance to get out of this.  
"Lead the way, I guess."  
Stephen didn't need any further prompting. One hand swirled before the other and the portal sparked open.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you going to just stand there all day?" Strange stood just before the portal where he'd stopped after noticing Stark wasn't following him.  
Tony had a good reason for that. Much like Stephen wasn't too keen on getting back into a car, Tony wasn't overly fond of going through another portal. It wasn't the first time he traveled this way with the sorcerer, yet he still had those hangups. He still had a fear that held him in place.  
"It's just a beach on the other side, Tony. I promise." Stephen's tone softened.   
Thankfully he was all too familiar with Stark's particular anxieties. The sorcerer extended a hand out to him which trembled oh so slightly as they always did and Tony was quite happy to take hold of it. He would, of course, have the excuse ready that it was simply to balance himself stepping down onto a different level of terrain. In reality that simple contact was enough to ease his fears and calm a racing mind stuck on replaying memories he wished were only nightmares.  
When he did finally step through, the rift closed up behind him and he just stood there a moment to take in the new scenery. The beach stretched for miles on either side and the ocean rolled slow and calm under an endless night sky. Further up-shore came the sounds of the night life on the boardwalk where people still milled about, but the beach itself was largely empty.  
"Where is this?" Tony's gaze came back to settle on Strange. God, he was such a beautiful man - even moreso in the pale light of the night.  
"New Jersey. Asbury Park, to be exact. Come on, you're treating me to some tacos and cocktails."  
Tony realized then Stephen still had a hold of his hand and gave it a little tug.  
"Oh, am I? How generous of me." He fell in step beside him, and didn't yet try to take his hand back. The wizard had rather large hands which allowed his own to fit snugly into the hold.

Dinner ended up being more cocktails than tacos.  
Awkward, nervous tension faded away after about the fourth or maybe fifth drink. Margaritas and Daiquiris were good about that. Conversation came easily, much to his surprise. With just how vastly different their studies were, Stark always feared they would have little in common to talk about. That just wasn't true.  
And his sense of humor was on point. Quick witted, sarcastic, even down right lewd sometimes. It mirrored his own.  
Comfortably drunk, somehow they had landed on the topic of ridiculous things they did being rich, or Stephen being formerly so. Despite _none_ of it actually being all too funny, Tony was in tears from laughter.  
"I'm _serious_ , Tony! They'd all be rotating and shit," The doctor paused to chuckle more, if only because Tony was laughing so hard at this point that it was contagious. "I thought it was just the coolest thing to blow my money on."  
"Christ, you were'n _asshole_." Glasses were taken off to wipe away the tears.  
"Takes one to know one, Stark."  
"Well you aren't wrong there." Tony was still giggling as he lifted his glass to finish it off. "Almost too much of one to be an Avenger!"  
Now was Stephen's turn to nearly double over in his seat.  
"I've got th'fuckin' file on it! SHIELD made a whoooole g'ddamn ledger about how I'm too much of'n asshole!" Speech slurred and loud, but still not as loud as the belts of laughter.   
If they weren't just as amusing to watch as they thought their conversation to be, they might have been annoying literally everyone on the outdoor patio where they sat.  
"Uh, Mr. Stark?" An unfamiliar voice had both Tony and Stephen turning around to face a group of five young teens whose faces lit up to see it really was him.  
"Whats up kiddos?"  
"Could you, like, take a selfie with us please?"  
"Hell yes I can!" Even drunk, Tony managed to be a certain kind of charming.  
Stephen watched silently as the group gathered around his chair and posed in an assortment of silly ways the billionaire was all too eager to partake in. He didn't even mind the interruption, or that Tony took the time to shake each individual's hand and ask their name. That was what made him who he was. That was amongst the many reasons Stephen was so drawn to him.  
"My brother was killed in New York that day," one of the boys said shyly. "But if you weren't there, I would have lost my mom too."  
Suddenly, Tony didn't feel like laughter anymore. He tried to play it cool.  
"Addison lost her brother, too. Wasn't he on a trip with yours?"  
"Yeah, they were..."  
Their voices grew distant in his ears, muffled as though he were underwater. Eyes were locked straight ahead on nothing in particular while his jaw set firmly. His left hand kept curling and uncurling in a fist as though trying to regain feeling in it again. The rise and fall of his chest was increasing.  
And Stephen was acutely aware of it all, as his eyes hadn't left Tony since that sobering bomb was dropped.  
"Guys, Mr. Stark has some business to attend to. Excuse us." Stephen was already on his feet and placed a hand on Tony's shoulder almost protectively. Unaware of the man unraveling at the seams, the kids gave their cheerful thanks before heading off. 

Tony was aware of the hand on his shoulder, aware Strange was standing and saying something, but he couldn't bring himself out of the flashbacks. The flood of aliens pouring from the portal. The bodies. The great abyss of the other side of that portal. And that was just New York.  
"Tony."  
His name, it sounded so very far away.  
Then there was a warmth blossoming against his neck that settled on either side of his jaw. It was enough to hold onto, enough to reel him back in. Stark blinked rapidly a few times. Stephen had moved to sit in front of him, his tremor-ridden hands holding his face.  
"Breathe, Tony. You're alright."  
Stephen's voice was soothingly calm and soft. It didn't attract unwanted attention, yet focused enough for Tony to latch to. A few more blinks and he started searching Strange's face, a little bewildered as was normal after coming out of one of those episodes.   
"Theeeere he is." A slight hint of a smile tugged the corner of Stephen's lips. "That's it... slow breaths."  
Tony felt himself nodding a bit and focused on his breathing, realizing just how rapid it had been. This was strangely easier to deal with while being coached through it even though episodes like these were his normal.  
"I, uh..."  
"I know."  
"It's just... they..."  
" _I know_."  
Stephen's hands dropped away from his face to rest over the fists he had balled in his lap, gently trying to uncurl them until they relaxed. Once he was able to achieve that much, his hands were turned over with palms up and Stephen spent a few quiet moments simply tracing the lines with shaking fingertips. Whatever he was doing was helping. Stark was back to breathing steadily, and dulled senses returning to normal.  
"That some sort of calming wizard magic?" Indeed, Tony was about back to himself.  
"Nope." Stephen grinned a little. "Just good old fashioned skin-to-skin. Just a little something from medschool."  
Tony's fingers wiggled a bit before he pulled his hands away. One reached into his suit jacket to the pocket that phone had been stored in to grab his moneyclip. A few bills were slipped out and placed on the table and a glass set ontop of them so they wouldn't blow away. The clip was returned, and carefully he pushed the chair out and got to his feet.  
Strange got up with him, ready to grab the man if he lost his balance.  
Wordlessly, Stark started a brisk walk away down the steps of the patio and into the sand, apparently beelining for the privacy of the beach again. Stephen walked with him in silence, knowing all too well the time he needed to get his head straight again. _Too well._


	3. Chapter 3

In silence they walked together, but in silence they were not surrounded.  
Each step shifted the sand, the ocean waves rumbled in their ebb, and growing more distant were the voices and music of the boardwalk.  
Stark was notorious about this. After an anxiety attack he would just leave. No explaination given or even a location in mind, he simply got as far as he could from whatever it was that set him off until he could think straight again. Was it the healthiest way to deal with the problem? No, and he knew that. But he also knew the other option wasn't worth it. He'd sooner be dead than comatose on the strongest doses of a medicine cocktail - and that was even _if_ modern medicine could subdue his particular anxiety.   
Eventually, though, he did stop. Hands shoved into his pockets as he stood staring at the waters rolling in only a few feet away. Strange stood right beside him.

"You can't keep running away from it, Tony."  
"Yeah, see, the thing you or anyone else for that matter can't possibly grasp is that there _is no running away_. Not from your own mind." His words had a sharp edge.  
Stephen scoffed. "Ah, so no one could possibly empathize with the great Tony Stark, hm?"  
"I don't need your lectures, Strange. I don't need your shit, either."  
"No," Stephen stepped in front of him, those green eyes piercing even in such little light. "What you need is a swift kick in the ego. You are not the only one who has seen too many terrible things. You are not the only one plagued by the knowledge of what horrors lie in wait out there." Arm lifted to motion towards the night sky.  
"And let me guess, the all-knowing wizard does?" The more defensive he became, the sharper his words were.  
Stephen stared at him long and hard, his expression stony. Stark was a lot of things, but cruel wasn't one of them.  
"You _know_ I do." As angry as he wanted to be, he couldn't. The coldness from his face melted after a sigh. "Just _talk_ to me, Tony."  
Stephen raised a hand, aiming to caress a wonderfully chiseled cheek gently, but Tony's own flew from the pocket to slap it away hard enough that the tiniest grimace crossed the doctor's face.  
"Mmmkay, I'm done being nice."  
"Good. I didn't ask yo--whatthefuck!"  
With a faint yellow glow around him, Tony was suddenly lifted off the sand and into the air under the guidance of Stephen's hands, both lit up with the arcane discs surrounding them. The sorcerer took a few steps forward towards the water until it lapped at his boots and dangled Stark out a few feet more over it, letting him struggle to find some sort of center of balance in his sudden weightlessness.  
"Don't you fucking _dare_ , Strange!" Tony almost shrieked. "This suit cost more t--"  
"Bye."  
Strange gave a little flick of the wrist, and down Tony went with the most ungraceful splash. Now that brought a grin to his face.  
Tony popped up from the shallow waters, glasses lost to the waves that kept him struggling to get any sort of footing to actually get up again. Just about everything he had worn was ruined now.  
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Tony did shriek this time.  
The way Stephen just stood there grinning at him pissed him off something fierce. Stark sloshed angrily through the water and fell a few times as a wave would come and knock him off balance. He was going to kill him. There would be a murder on the beach tonight. Tony would be a wanted killer. He was out for blood, yet Stephen didn't seem bothered to move as the sopping wet man came trudging towards him looking more like a drowned rat than the suave billionaire he was. Just as he was about at arm's reach, Strange began to raise his arms for balance as he expected to fly out of range. The cloak billowed dramatically behind him...  
And left him entirely, floating off to a safe distance by itself and leaving Strange to fend for himself.  
"Oh... shit." Dr. Stephen Strange's last words.

They could have been, if Stark truly had a violent bone in his body.  
Tony grabbed the wizard by the folds of his robes at his chest and hurled the man out into the waters with as much strength as he could muster. Which, contrary to most thought, was actually quite a lot. Iron Man was more armor than anything. At the core it was his own strength there.  
Stephen flailed before hitting the water and rolled with a wave. Luckily Tony couldn't throw quite as far as Strange had magic'd him out and getting footing on the sand below proved less challenging.  
"Traitor!" The sorcerer screamed at the cloak still floating out of the way of both of them.  
It waved.  
Tony exploded with laughter at the sheer absurdity of it. Until he felt himself being pulled by an invisible tether that Stephen was casting which was used to pull Tony's feet out from under him to have him fall flat on his ass into the wet sand just where the water still rolled in but had no real push or pull. Stark scooped up a handful of sand and pitched it straight at the doctor, smacking him in the middle of his chest. Strange looked down at the sand falling off in little piles, then up to Stark, who was scrambling to get to his feet again. Stephen ran towards him in the most ridiculous fashion - wet robes weren't particularly easy to move around in - the water at his ankles enough resistance to slow him down just enough for Tony to at least make it to his feet. But then Strange was on him, grabbing onto his arm with what seemed like the intention of stopping him when it was really just the man tripping and taking Tony down with him.  
To anyone watching from a distance, it was two idiots trying and failing to get out of the water, then tumbling down together like a bad episode of the Three Stooges.

Sprawled out on his back, all Stark could do was laugh. The waves rolled in over his legs, but he didn't bother moving. No point in it now. Stephen crawled up beside him army-style, sharing in the breathless laughter of something so mundanely silly.  
Tony almost couldn't stand looking at him - it was too much to handle with the absolute mess of hair dripping into his face and how the droplets trickled down from his magnificent cheekbones. And those lips glistening with saltwater... _Looking so damn kissable_.  
"So, then kiss me." Stephen said with the raise of a brow.  
"...I'm thinking out loud again?"  
"Yeeup."  
"Must be a side effect..." Tony slipped his arm around Stephens shoulder and combed his fingers into his soaking hair to pull him down. "Of being around an idiot wizard."  
"Must be." Stephen murmured softly against the lips he was being pulled down to kiss.  
God, it was electrifying. Even better than the numerous times he had imagined it. He tasted like the sea and felt like a cool, needed breeze on a hot summer day. Those lips had him drunker than any of the drinks before and he couldn't get enough. Again and again, deeper and deeper, Stephen obliging with heated fervor. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours as far as Tony was concerned, time lost to each kiss.  
Stephen was the first to break away reluctantly. "You're shaking."   
Tony hadn't noticed until it was pointed out. Indeed, he was trembling from head to toe. When did it get so damn cold?  
"Yeah, 'cause you stopped."  
"Idiot." Stephen said with a smile, then leaned down for one more peck. "Lets get you back to the Sanctum before you go hypothermic on me."  
"Yeah, okay, fine. I guess it is a little chilly." Said the man whose teeth were starting to chatter.  
At Strange's beckoning, the cloak came near and bundled around Tony once Stephen helped him up to his feet. Slipping on the blocky ring, a portal was waved open conveniently into his bathroom where dripping saltwater wouldn't destroy anything. Cloak-Tony burrito stood by watching as Stephen pushed open the sliding glass door to his shower and turned the water on. Only once it was the perfect temperature was he satisfied enough to turn to him again.  
"Go dry off or something, cloak."  
Tony chuckled quietly after it unwrapped him and flapped drops of water at Stephen's face, then flew out through the door, which Stephen moved to pull shut to keep the warm air from escaping.  
"Off with million-dollar rags." Strange grinned devilishly, knowing full well how much his ensemble had cost. Part of the whole reason he had wanted Stark to get dolled up was purely to see his reaction to ruining it all. Mission successful.  
"Ohhh, Mister Doctor," Tony took an overly scandalous tone, which had Stephen rolling his eyes. "Don't look, I'm shy." He turned to look over his shoulder and bat his eyes while biting lower lip, still shaking like a leaf.  
"Oh my god, Stark. Just take off the damn clothes or _I will_."  
"Threats are supposed to be, yanno, threatening. Not inviting." Brows gave a suggestive waggle, but he began to unbutton the jacket.

Getting out of a three piece suit soaking wet was much harder than it seemed. Stephen had to help peel the clothes off one by one and Tony could hardly handle it. Despite being cold to uncontrollable shaking, it was downright arousing to be undressed by him. Somehow, to Tony's total surprise, there wasn't anything more to it than that, aside from some tender kisses against his neck and shoulders. Not even when the pants came off and there was no more hiding just how arousing it really was. Strange's concern was getting him warmed up, urges could wait.  
What did surprise him, though, was the sneaky wizard slipping into the shower with him. His head was down under the spray of the shower and he leaned forward with one hand supporting his weight against the wall when suddenly arms were wrapping around him and a _very_ naked Stephen pressed against his back, apparently sharing a mutual feeling about undressing him if he were to judge by _what else_ was pressing.  
Broad, scarred hands explored freely across his chest and lingered on the scar where the arc reactor had once been. Then down his abdomen they glided, off to his sides and further down to his hips and thighs while avoiding all the areas Tony yearned for his touch the most. Stephen nosed and nuzzled into the curve of his neck and Tony found himself tilting his head the opposite direction to give him more room, expose more flesh for his lips to grace.  
Jesus Christ it was driving him insane. Strange, too by the feel of it.  
"I thought you didn't fuck on the first date?"  
"I don't." Stephen bit down into the crook of his neck, barely hard enough to leave impressions of his teeth.  
Tony sucked in a sharp breath.  
He bit harder.  
"F-fuck, Stephen..." He groaned, needy and flustered. "Then what the hell are you doing?"  
The doctor grinned and kissed the new bite mark. "Raising your body temperature."


	4. Chapter 4

Stephen Strange had to be the world's biggest blueballing cocktease. Tony was sure of it. Medical school was just some rouse for years studying the art of turn-ons and denial.  
It was unnatural.  
It was maddening.  
But god it was good.  
He didn't even think it was _possible_ at 48 to still get this worked up, especially over touches that were just that - touches. Not even sexual.  
Yet there he was lying face down on the sorcerer's bed, face buried into a pillow his arms were wrapped around. Still naked and damp, but at least finally back to the right temperature.  
Stephen sat beside him on the edge in the same nude, freshly showered fashion and simply stroked trembling fingers down his back. Tony was just that touch-starved for a simple act to drive him so insane, to have him squirming and groaning. And Stephen knew because he was, too. He was just better at hiding it than Stark.  
"I used to give these killer massages before the accident." Stephen mused aloud, watching his fingers as he made another pass along the expanse of his back.  
Tony arched his back against the touch. "Mmm... and now you give killer whatever this is." His voice stifled by the pillow.  
Unseen by the writhing man below, Stephen couldn't help but smile stupidly. Stark always had some sort of comeback when he lamented the abilities he had lost, one that always seemed to make him feel better about it all. Usually hidden beneath five layers of snark and sass, but Strange could see through that rather easily considering he used the same tactics himself.  
Tony felt Strange shifting beside him, turning and folding one of those ridiculously long legs under himself, the pressure of one of his hands against the mattress right below his elbow. For a moment it felt like maybe Stephen was about to crawl on top of him and _finally_ give him what he was dying to have. But, no, it was just him leaning down over him to pepper lingering kisses across his shoulders and back. That didn't exactly disappoint him. His smile was hidden in the pillow, the soft moans were not.

"How are you really _this_ worked up?" Stephen asked through a quiet rumble of laughter.  
Tony turned his head to the side, playfully glaring at the sorcerer from the corner of his vision.  
"You try being felt up and kissed on by you and not be worked up."  
Strange looked up from Tony's back, briefly imagining just that and just sort of nodded.  
"That's fair."  
"Ass." Tony buried his face again.  
Probably a good thing, too, since it muffled the sharp yelp that followed a loud, stinging _smack_ against a well-toned rump. Stark pushed himself up on his arms which brought him face to face with a deviously grinning Strange.  
"The hell, man?" Tony tried to come off angry, a hard thing to do when really he wanted to beg him to do it again.  
"What? You said ass. That's ass."  
"One you should be fucking right now." Tony felt the heat rising to his cheeks the moment those words left his mouth. Too late to take it back, though.  
Stephen's brows shot up in a look that conveyed without speaking, _Are you serious right now?_ Then, just laughed.  
"Tony, have you ever even had sex with another man?"  
The question seemed to catch him off guard. He rolled over more onto his side to face Strange. Was the doctor really questioning his preference? Now? He felt his temper bristling.  
"I gave some blowjobs to basically the entire robotics class back in MIT."  
"Of course you did." Strange smirked but gave a small shake of his head. "No, I mean," his jittery fingers danced along Tony's side. "Have you ever actually been fucked in the ass?"  
"Look, Houdini, just because I haven't done th--" And then it clicked, what he was really asking. "Oh."  
"Mmhm."  
"Ooohh."  
"Yeeah." A mixed look of sympathy and disappointment crossed Stephen's face as he looked down at the now adorably pouting Stark. "Trust me, Tony. I would in a heartbeat if we were at all prepared. But we aren't, and I'm not willing to hurt you."  
"There's still _other_ things we could do besides that."  
"But then you would want more and then I would want more and it wouldn't end well for either of us tonight."  
"Uuuughhh." Stark practically growled out in frustration, then abruptly sat up and pushed himself off the bed to storm towards the bathroom, leaving Stephen utterly confused.  
"Tony...?"  
"I'm taking care of the problem!" And then the door was slammed shut. "And get me some goddamn pants!" He shouted from the other side.

When he came out, much more relieved, Strange was gone. Shit, had he done something wrong? Probably. He was always fucking things up, so why would this be any different? Laid out on the bed were some red plaid pajama pants, though. They were entirely too long, but Tony wore them anyway with the excess fabric pooling around his feet, toes barely visible. That familiar red cloak then peeked into the bedroom and it put Stark's fear that he'd driven off Stephen to rest. He wouldn't actually go anywhere without that stupid thing.  
"Yeah yeah, you can go get him now." He said. To a cloak. He was talking to clothing.  
It took off in a hurry. Tony just stared at the bed for a few minutes, struggling with the inner debate of staying or leaving. He wanted to stay, but sharing a bed with anyone was almost impossible with his constant nightmares. However, if he went back to the compound now he knew there wouldn't be any sleep. Not after this. He'd work himself to exhaustion and sleep when he passed out at some point. That was easier than sleeping alone. Easier than lying there for hours with a racing mind and no way to shut it off.  
Hesitantly, Tony flipped down the covers and crawled into the bed. One arm folded behind his head and the other across his chest to nervously tap at the scar. Sometimes, admittedly, he missed the reactor there.  
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Wong was up and had some questions." Stephen seemed to glide into the room and shut the door behind him - after the cloak just barely managed to squeeze in.  
"Questions about...?" Tony watched him cross the room, taking notice of the pajama pants he wore were similar to the ones he was borrowing at the moment.  
"Us."  
Tony felt a sudden dread in his gut. He never had actually told anyone about his affections for Strange. Hell, he never really really came out and said he wasn't straight, either. That one he figured everyone just sort of knew by now.  
"And? What'd you say?"  
Stephen sat beside him, then tucked his legs beneath the blankets.  
"That we went on a date and you might be staying over. And then he asked me what I was doing wandering around while you were still in here so I told him I was walking off some frustrations and suddenly he had no interest in conversation. Imagine that."  
Stephen grinned sheepishly, then shuffled down until he was on his back. His arm burrowed under Tony's pillow, allowing him to wrap around his shoulders and pull him in closer. Stark happily complied, rolled onto his side to lay his head on Stephen's chest and draped an arm across his stomach.  
"I have nightmares." Tony finally said softly after a few minutes of just listening to his heartbeat.  
"I figured as much."  
"Are you sure you want to be holding me? Sometimes I--"  
"I'm sure."  
A slight smile pulled at the corner of his lips. That was settled, then. Tony turned his head just enough to kiss against his chest and resisted the urge to do about twenty different things to him. Another time. It made him giddy just to think there would be another time. A deep breath was drawn in and exhaled slowly, for once actually feeling a sense of peace.  
"Hey, Stark."  
"Hm?"  
"So can I tell people I'm dating Iron Man if they ask?"  
Oh shit. He didn't think that this had been serious for Strange. He didn't think the feeling was actually mutual. It was just going to be some meaningless fling. That was all he was capable of having ever since _she_ died. Tony was too broken, too chaotic, too self-loathing for anyone to get close to. Even the other Avengers limited their time spent with him outside of missions. Except Peter. Without that kid, Stark probably would have just straight given up on everything.  
He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and tightened the arm wrapped about Stephen's waist.  
"Yeah. But I get to call you Doctor Boyfriend."  
"I'll allow it."  
Stephen dipped his head down against the top of Tony's to press a kiss and simply breathe him in. He had seen this moment thousands of times, each just oh so different from the other. But finally living it and experiencing it went beyond all expectations.  
"Get some sleep, Tony." Strange murmured against his hair.

Sleep came, eventually. Right up until he was out he had a dumb grin plastered to his face. For the first time in years, he didn't wake up once screaming or fighting from terrible memory turned into worse nightmare. The first night of many to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support <3 I will definitely be writing more of this version of these two!
> 
> In this AU, it's a few years after the events of IW. While they did succeed in undoing The Snap and defeated Thanos, there were still a lot of deaths that both Tony and Stephen feel personally responsible for. The most significant being:  
> Pepper, Rhodey, Rogers, Scott, Nebula, Christine, and Master Hamir


End file.
